


all dead things must be together

by Belfire



Category: Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Beating, Buried Alive, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Please Kill Me, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 15:20:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19793617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belfire/pseuds/Belfire
Summary: From a distance, this monster was Nightwing. Jason approached him off guard and fell right into his taloned clutches. Dick always promised to find a way past his defences, now he finally did it."Little wing... Always fighting me... Always fighting... Little wing."





	all dead things must be together

**Author's Note:**

> Because I want in on the Jason rare pair challenge too.

The rain-drenched pavement was open-armed and welcoming to Jason as he fell against it at full impact.

Gravel and shards of glass cut into his cold numb flesh where his suit was torn.

His broken ribs burned and his chest refused to expand enough to fill his lungs even halfway.

Blood tingled on his tongue. He coughed harshly and felt the shallow breaths as they rattled in his chest. Shit. Something was broken. He knew it.

His brain commanded him to get up as any bat worth their salt could but his injured body refused to obey the orders.

_"Get up, little wing. Get up. You need to get up."_

Groaning, Jason forced his eyelids to open a crack and saw the blurring mass of colours and shapes looming above him. Long strands of tangled ghostly hair whipping in the wind, a tight black bodysuit and blood red V on its crest. Two knife-tipped escrima sticks were held firmly in the man's fists, knives that had parted Jason's flesh more times than there were stars in the sky.

But god, that face... That chalky white face with no discernible features, just a flat leathery surface with two black holes for beady eyes, alight with a sadistic glow that matched the ever-widening wolf-toothed grin.

There were marks on Jason's flesh, around his throat and mouth. Marks that would match those teeth if examined side-by-side.

"Little wing... Little wing... Get up, little wing..." He cooed through chapped bloodless lips. His clawed hand reached down and curled around the collar of Jason's suit, Jason groaned a small weak 'no' as he was drawn off the ground yet again. He feebly hit at the man's chest and arms, one of his own wrists broken, a lance of pain shooting all the way to his shoulder every time he tried to free himself.

But the man who was dressed like Nightwing, his grip was an iron cage.

And he smiled, tilting his head. Jason's warm blood was the only bit of colouration on his pallid features.

"So strong, little wing, so strong.... Always strong, little wing." His voice was soft and kind to Jason's screaming nervous system when he knew it shouldn't be. It was Dick Grayson's voice coming out of this man who was not him. His brother's voice... The way it used to be when Jason had nightmares that made death seem sweet.

Hot tears rolled over Jason's water line, his lashes sticking together and eyes puffy in an ugly mess he never wanted anyone to see. Ever.

From a distance, this monster was Nightwing. Jason approached him off guard and fell right into his taloned clutches. Dick always promised to find a way past his defences, now he finally did it.

"Little wing... Always fighting me... Always fighting... Little wing."

Jason flinched back against the hand around his neck as the man leaned in to lick a mixture of blood and tears from his bruised face. The man's breath was _rancid_ , like decayed teeth and rotten guts. His whole body looked weeks into decomposition; clumps of his hair were falling from his scalp and black veins were sticking out of wrinkled flesh riddled with infected sores.

How did Jason ever make the mistake of thinking this thing was Dick?

The man gave a blissful exhale, eyes fluttering shut as he savoured the flavour of Jason's pain in his mouth. It was the finest thing to ever grace his taste buds. 

"Us dead things... We keep together, little wing..." He purred and caressed the side of Jason's face that the shattered helmet allowed to be seen. Jason couldn't keep the tiny whimper from tumbling over the edge of his teeth, not as the knuckles grazing over his skin could just as easily turn on him at a hair's breadth.

All the fight in him, it had been pounded out over the course of hours. This alley hid them from the outside world and the rain washed away the blood that stood as evidence of what happened here. The soft pearls of water were akin to acid when they landed on Jason's battered and beaten body and every cut and bruise, broken bone and torn muscle, screamed in synchronised torment.

Now he didn't have the illusion of Bruce coming to save him to give him hope that this may end.

"Wh... What do y... you want?" Jason mustered the fragments of strength to say but even that wasn't enough to make his voice a notch above audible.

"All dead things must be together, little wing... All dead things, always together..."

The man's voice was becoming incoherent and far away as if they were bobbing seven oceans apart.

Jason's consciousness was dwindling quickly and he remembered being happy for it, less god-forsaken than the course of his life came down to.

He dreamt about waking up in the Cave's medical bay because Bruce realised he was in trouble and rescued him.

Or Leslie's clinic after a good Samaritan came upon his senseless body sprawled out in the alleyway.

Maybe even coming around to Nightwing leaning over him with concern and fear because Jason was _hurt_. He would promise to make it all better and never let this happen again. He would hunt down the imposter and kill him for all the things he did.

And he would do it because... Because he...

"... All dead things must stay together..." Clawed hands raked through Jason's hair, as gentle as they were cruel. The touch was fixated on him, never going for more than a second without. Cracked lips pressed to his mouth and that gross tongue he was now familiar with dipped past his jaws.

_No... no.. no..._

It was with a struggle and defeated groan that Jason forced his lids open once more, praying for anything but the hollow soulless eyes and bloody mouth to be there when he did. He didn't know how long he was out for or what could have happened during that time.

"All dead things..." Teeth flashed in the dark, teeth like knives to cut skin and muscle. He was close. Oh, the man was so close to Jason, hardly a foot apart. They were both laid on their sides, facing each other. Instinctively, Jason jerked away from him but his back hit solid pine wood half a foot away.

Suddenly he realised the hot recycled air and silence. What little he moved was greeted by the push of the wood encircling him... _Trapping_ him.

It was on the sides, the floor, the ceiling, built like a prison around him with no room to move or even squirm. It was like a box... No, a... A _coffin_.

The man chuckled in a low demonic way as Jason began to thrash and panic. His long fingers brushed over the taut nylon rope pinning Jason's arms to his sides. His ankles were tied too. He wouldn't be able to free himself.

"All dead things must be together, little wing...."

Tractor wheels rumbled overhead and a shower of dirt poured onto the coffin lid.

"... _Always_."

**Author's Note:**

> Admittedly, I went too far.


End file.
